What Are the Odds? Apparently, Not Good If You're One Mike Ross
by penguino3782
Summary: Lately, it seems like the odds have been against Mike. Getting Shingles wasn't enough. Now he has developed a complication from the virus. Who gets Ramsay Hunt Syndrome? 1 in 190,000, that's who. So, of course it would be Mike . A little sequel to the story I wrote years ago, "Just an Itch."


**Disclaimer: I don't own Suits.**

 **A/N: Hey everybody. I know it's been awhile, but I'm in the mood for some old school hurt Mike. I was re-reading one of my first stories, "Just an Itch", and inspiration struck. I know it's been years since I wrote "Just an Itch", but I hope you all enjoy this little sequel. Warning, even though you don't see the vomiting there are a couple of mentions of it in this. This story takes place during the first season, so please keep that in mind when you're reading this.**

 **What Are the Odds?**

You know that exhilarating feeling you get after a good night's sleep? The one where you jump out of bed and hit the ground running? The one where you leap out of bed and can't wait to see what the day brings? The one where you're happily whistling as you get ready for the day?

Yeah, that's not the case for Mike. Mike cautiously opens his eyes, letting them slowly adjust to the light coming through his window. He goes to turn over, but spiking pain stops him from doing so. His hand moves to the spot where the pain is radiating from and His hand meets the raised, inflamed skin of the rash that has taken residence over a good portion of his back. "Shit," Mike moans as the pain ebbs to a more manageable level. He checks the clock that's on his night stand. Crap. He's not due for a pain pill for a couple of hours. But, it is time for his next dose of antibiotics and steroids. He takes the pills with a sip of lukewarm water.

It's been three days since he has gone to the doctor and has gotten the diagnosis of herpes zoster, or better known as shingles. And he still feels like complete shit. He feels less shitty than he did a couple of days ago when the shingles first flared up, but not much. Over the last couple of days Mike has basically been bedridden. Getting up to even do the most basic tasks wipes out his energy reserves. A small part of him feels bad for leaving Harvey in a lurch. Before he got sick he and Harvey were in the middle of five cases. But, that small feeling of regret for not being able to work quickly vanishes when his back starts itching and he can't get into a comfortable position no matter how much he maneuvers himself.

His cell phone is ringing again, but he just doesn't have the energy to answer it. And has even less answer to actually talk to the person that's calling. So, instead he just burrows farther into his blankets.

 **XXXXX**

"Have you talked to Mike today?"

Harvey doesn't hear Donna at first. He's too busy going through the Wyle case. He has less than an hour before he has to meet his client and doesn't have any time to spare.

"Harvey?!"

"What, Donna? I'm a little busy here," Harvey replies, still not taking his eyes off his work.

Donna comes further into Harvey's office. "I asked you if you have talked to Mike today."

Harvey shakes his head. "I got to get this done. With Mike being out I got a shit ton of work to do."

"Why don't you just have one of the other associates help?"

Harvey throws the pen he's been using down on his desk in aggravation. "No way in hell. I don't trust any of those morons to get this stuff done."

Donna can't help but smirk. "Fine then. If you don't want help, you better suck it up. Mike is going to be out for at least a couple of more days."

"Don't remind me," Harvey says finally looking up from his pile of work.

"As I asked you before, have you talked to Mike today?"

Harvey motions with his hands to the work that's covering his desk. "I've been a little busy with doing both his and my job to check in with him to make sure he's being a good boy by taking his meds and resting."

Donna rolls his eyes. "I called him three times this morning and he's not answering."

"Donna, the kid has a small pharmacy running through his veins right now. He's probably in bed or on the couch watching crappy daytime tv."

Donna gives her boss her patent 'don't fuck with me' look.

Getting the point, Harvey says "Fine, I'll call him in a bit."

Donna quirks an eyebrow. "And?"

Harvey sighs, "After I meet with Wyle I'll go by his place to check in on him."

Donna smiles, "See? Now that wasn't too hard, was it?"

Before Harvey can reply, Donna turns around and heads back to her desk.

 **XXXXX**

The midafternoon sun greets Mike as he wakes up several hours later. He hears something ringing, so he looks to his night stand for his phone. He answers it with a croak of a hello. But, no one's there. He looks at his phone in confusion all he sees are several missed calls from earlier in the day from Rachel, Donna, and even Harvey. And even more confusing to his fogged brain, he still hears the ringing. What the hell? He rubs his ear in hopes of getting the ringing to stop to no prevail.

The ringing in his ear is in a fierce competition with his full bladder. After several long minutes the ringing doesn't stop and he definitely can't ignore his bladder anymore. He finally starts his slow trek to the bathroom. A wave of dizziness speeds up his movement as bile rises up into his throat. He just makes it to the toilet in time to throw up what little he has consumed over the last couple of days. He stays in front of the toilet for several long minutes until his stomach settles. Finally, it does. Man he needs to get some more food into his system. An empty stomach with all the medicine he's on is not a good thing. After waiting several more minutes to make sure that everything stays where it should be, Mike slowly makes his way to his kitchen to make some toast. Hopefully, the nausea will stop once he gets something with substance into his gut.

 **XXXXX**

Harvey looks at his watch. 8:37. Damn! How did it get so late? Oh he knows exactly how it got so late. The clusterfuck of a meeting with Wyle was a disaster. Instead of putting the Wyle case to bed, Harvey's been putting out fires left and right all afternoon long. To top it all of Harvey's been going though financial statements since he's gotten back to the office. Schlepping through financial statements is on top of Harvey's list of most hated jobs. But with no Mike in the office, he has no choice. And he still has a shit ton more of bank statements to go through. The kid better get better fast because Harvey doesn't know how many more ledgers he can look through before his head may explode.

Harvey looks up from his computer when he hear his phone notify him of an e-mail. Shit. It's almost nine. He was supposed to check in on Mike. Donna only reminded him at least five times before she left the office. He still has so much work to do before he can head home. Besides the kid is probably sleeping and sleep is exactly what the kid needs. He'll just check on Mike tomorrow morning on his way into the office.

 **XXXXX**

Once again, a ringing noise wakes Mike up. However, this time he is not in his bed. After losing his stomach contents during the third pilgrimage to the bathroom in the middle of the night, he decided to forgo the bed and sleep on the couch. The near constant rearing that has taken over his right ear for the last twelve hours is now in battle with a searing pain that is pulsing through his ear.

"What the hell," Mike moans as he rubs his ear in hopes of relieving some of the pain. His pathetic attempt isn't working. He fumbles with one hand for the bottle of painkillers as his other hand remains pressed against his ear in the vain attempt to quell some of the pain. He dry swallows a painkiller and settles back down on his side to give his still aching back a reprieve. The one good thing about the agony in is ear is that his back isn't killing him as much as it has been.

Mike is just about to fade away into a medicated sleep when he hears a different kind of ringing. His damn cell phone.

"Jesus, just leave me alone," Mike mutters. He closes his eyes in hopes that the caller will get the hint that he does not want to be bothered. It seems like his prayers are answered when the phone stops ringing. Mike can't help but sigh in relief. But, just a few seconds later the ringing starts up again. He relents and answers his phone when the ringing doesn't stop. The sooner he answers the phone, the sooner he will be able to get off and pass out into oblivion.

"What?" Mike answers his phone.

" _You alive?"_ a slightly annoyed voice asks.

Of course, it's Harvey. He probably wants to know when Mike will be back in the office.

" _lo?"_ Harvey asks

It takes a second for Mike to decipher the gibberish that is coming out of Harvey's mouth. The damn ringing in his ear is relentless.

"Huh? You woke me up." Mike replies.

"Ou king your eds?"

Mike nods his head, forgetting that Harvey can't see his response.

" _Ike? Ou ere me?"_

"Just took them. Was ready to pass out when you called." Mike can't help but sigh. All he wants is to get off the phone and go back to sleep.

" _Kay, et ou go. Et some sheep."_

"Will do, bye."

Harvey isn't saying anything and that annoys Mike. Harvey is the one that called him. Screw it. Mike ends the call. He makes sure to turn off the ringer off before he tosses the phone onto his coffee table. Now, hopefully he can sleep without any more interruptions. Not even two minutes later he's asleep.

 **XXXXX**

Harvey takes a sip of his coffee as he looks out his window enjoying the beautiful view of the city. He didn't get home until almost eleven last night, but he's in good shape for his meeting with Walter Wyle later in the day. But, first things first. He needs to call Mike and see how the kid is doing. Donna has already texted him twice asking him if he has talked to his associate. He assured her that he was on it. He better get to it before she makes a very expensive purchase on his firm credit card.

Harvey looks at his watch and sees that it's almost 7:45. It's not too early to call Mike. The phone rings about six times before it goes to voicemail. Is Mike seriously ignoring him? What a shit! The kid better be in the bathroom and that's why he's not picking up. He tries again. After several rigs his associate finally picks up.

" _What?"_ Mike answers with aggravation clearly in his voice.

Harvey takes a deep breath before he snaps at the younger man. The kid is sick after all. " _Yo_ u alive?"

Harvey's question is met with silence, "Hello?"

" _Huh? You woke me up,"_ Mike finally answers.

What the hell is going on with this kid? Did he pop too many meds at once?

"You taking your meds?" Harvey asks. Once again all he hears is silence. _"_ Mike, you hear me?"

" _Just took them. Was ready to pass out when you called,"_ Mike quips.

God the kid sounds like shit. "Okay, I'll let you go. Get some sleep."

" _Will do, bye."_

Harvey doesn't like this, but what can he do. Mike already sounds aggravated as hell with him. The kid is sick and probably just wants to go to sleep. But, before Harvey can end the call Mike hangs up.

Harvey looks at his phone in shock. This isn't right. Something's wrong with Mike. At first, the younger man's attitude annoyed Harvey, but now the kid's aloofness has him concerned and he can't go to work and kick ass until he sees Mike himself to make sure everything is okay. But, first he has to make a phone call.

" _Helllo,"_ a cheerful voice greets.

"I need you to clear my calendar until noon."

" _Good morning to you too, Harvey."_

Harvey rolls his eyes as he puts on his jacket and heads to the door. "Donna, don't start."

" _Harvey-"_

But, anything Donna is about to say is stopped when Harvey cuts in. "I'm going over to Mike's to check on him."

" _Everything okay?"_

That's what I'm going to find out," Harvey says as he leaves his apartment.

" _Keep me updated,"_ Donna says.

"Will do," Harvey says before he hangs up and heads toward the elevator.

 **XXXXX**

Another noise brings Mike to consciousness. This time it's not ringing. It's a banging noise. Forget that, it's more like a knocking. Actually, it's more like a person banging on the door very loudly to be precise. What the hell? Mike runs his hand over his face or he's pretty sure he does. He's not completely sure because the right side of his face is numb. Shit! This isn't good. What the hell is going on?

But, before he can try and make sense of this new ailment he needs to answer the door before the pain in his ear causes his head to explode. "Hold on, I'm coming."

"Bout ime, E nocking fo jive innetes, (About time. Been knocking for five minutes)" Harvey says when Mike opens his door.

"Sorry, I was sleeping." Mike says, leaning against the door heavily.

"Sus. Ou ok sike pit, "(Jesus, you look like shit) Harvey says stepping closer to Mike.

The look on Harvey's face causes Mike to try and step back, but in doing so has allowed Harvey to get a clear and on all accounts horrifying look at his face.

"Shut the shells ong ith your dace?!" (What the hell's wrong with your face?!) Harvey exclaims examining his associate's face intensely. He moves to get a closer look, but Mike flinches away from his boss. Getting the hint, Harvey stays where he is and tries in a gentler tone. "Alk to ee, Ike. Shut's oing on? (Talk to me, Mike. What's going on?"

Mike nods his head. "My ear is killing me," Mike begins, bringing his hand to his face. He stops when he feels the familiar, raised skin. He looks at his hand like it somehow offended him. How did the shingles spread to his face? He looks at Harvey in alarm. "Wh-what?"

Harvey gives his associate an understanding look, "know, id." (I know, kid) Harvey has to get Mike back on track. He can't help the kid if he doesn't know what wrong's with him. The rash is obvious, but what else is going on? "Et else on?" (What else is going on?"

"My ear is killing me. I can't hear right out of it. I threw up like five times," Mike stops his list before gearing up for the reveal of his last symptom, "And my face is numb."

If Mike knew that his face wouldn't throb in agony, he would have laughed or at least smiled when he saw Harvey's eyes go large. It's like a scene out of a cartoon or a comedy sketch. "Er ace is nub?!" (Your face is numb?!)

Harvey looks at Mike's attire of sweatpants and a grey t-shirt. "Oh et eddy. Ian aching ou ack ou wha octor." (Go get ready. I'm taking you back to the doctor) Before Mike could object, Harvey was on the phone. No doubt, calling Dr. Thompson. Knowing that arguing with his boss was fruitless and would probably drained whatever energy he has left, Mike turned around to get his shoes. Besides, at this point he would gladly go back to the doctor if it meant that he will feel better.

 **XXXXX**

It was a testament to how crappy Mike is feeling when he allowed Harvey to go into the exam room with him. The trip to the doctor's office has worn out Harvey, so he can only imagine how his associate feels. They had to stop several times on their way to the car for Mike to rest and or throw up what little he had in his stomach. The trip down from Mike's apartment to the car nearly exhausted the kid to the point that Mike was asleep before they reached the end of the block. Now, Harvey is looking at the younger man in concern as he's dozing on the exam table. And even more alarming, Harvey thinks the rash near Mike's right ear is getting more inflamed.

Almost as if a greater power was sensing Harvey's distress, there was a knock on the door. Harvey nudges his associate to try and wake him up. "Come in."

Dr. Thompson greets Harvey with a smile before turning to Mike. "Hi, Mike. What brings you back here?"

Mike is taking way too long to orient himself to his surroundings. He's looking around the exam room taking everything in. But, he still hasn't said anything. Another spike of alarm courses through Harvey. Finally, Mike sits himself up. "My ear."

"I see that," Dr. Thompson says slipping on a pair of gloves as he steps closer to the exam table to get a better look at his patient's ear. His touch is gentle, but Mike still flinches back in pain. "Besides, the pain and obvious rash, what are your other symptoms?"

Mike doesn't answer, so the doctor asks again. Still nothing. But, at least this time the kid looks at the physician. But, the look is one of confusion. Harvey can't stand back and do nothing.

"He's having problems with his hearing," Harvey starts with the obvious.

Dr. Thompson nods his head. "What else is going on?"

Mike doesn't respond. It looks like the kid just wants to sleep, so Harvey steps in. "Besides the pain and rash, he also has been vomiting and his face is numb."

"When did this start?" Dr. Thompson asks.

"Mike?" Dr. Thompson asks. The kid doesn't say anything.

The physician looks at Harvey for an answer and the lawyer instantly feels like shit. He has no idea. Mike's been home for four days and he didn't even talk to the kid at all yesterday because of the damn Wyle case. Has he been sick like this the whole time?

Harvey nudges his associate to get his attention. He repeats the doctor's question. It takes a few seconds for Mike's ill mind to decipher what was asked of him, but he finally does. "Um, yesterday morning."

Dr. Thompson nods his head but doesn't say anything as he disposes his gloves. He takes a seat by the exam table. "I think we're looking at a case of Ramsay Hunt Syndrome."

"Wh-what?" Mike starts.

Harvey mirrors Mike's sentiment. "What the hell is that?" Harvey cuts to the chase.

"It's rare. But, basically it's when the Shingles virus infects the nerve by the ear," Dr. Thompson explains.

"How do you treat it?" Harvey asks. Fixing things is in his blood, even illnesses if he can help it.

"It's still the shingles virus, so we treat it the same way." The doctor turns to Mike. "I'm going to switch you to a stronger anti-viral and prescribe you something for the vertigo."

It takes Mike a few seconds to translate what the physician said, but he eventually nods his head.

Dr. Thompson gives his patient and then Harvey a reassuring smile. "Ramsay Hunt can have some permanent repercussions, but we caught it early. With time and rest, I see a full recovery. Any questions?"

Mike and Harvey remain silent. Satisfied, Dr. Thompson stands up. "Okay, then. Stop by the desk on your way out. Trisha will have your prescriptions ready for you. Call me if any other symptoms appears, Mike." Mike nods his head tiredly.

"Feel better, Mike." The physician says before he exits the room.

Harvey then looks to Mike. "Come on, kid. Let's get you out of here before you catch MRSA or some other anti-biotic resistant infection."

 **XXXXX**

"Fancy seeing you here," Donna says with a smile when Harvey opens the apartment door.

Harvey rolls his eyes as he takes the stack of files that Donna hands him. "Thanks for bringing these over."

Donna doesn't say anything because she's too busy trying to look into darkened apartment. "How is he doing?"

Harvey motions for Donna to come into the apartment. "Right now he's down for the count. Finally."

"Finally?" Donna asks in concern.

"The kid kept puking. It finally stopped about twenty minutes ago."

Donna can't help but smirk.

"What?" Harvey asks, annoyed. He has had a long day dealing with a sick Mike and he doesn't need Donna adding to it.

"I know how much you hate vomit. I can just picture your face," Donna says laughing.

"Did you call Wyle?" Harvey asks changing the subject.

"I told him you will touch base with him tomorrow," Donna says.

Harvey nods his head as he begins to look through the files that Donna brought him. He doesn't notice her moving to the couch. But, her loud sigh causes him to look up.

"Jesus," Donna says looking at the kid. "That looks painful."

"It is," Harvey says referring to vibrant red blisters marring the area from Mike's right ear to the middle of his cheek. "Of course leave it to Mike to get Ramsay Hunt."

"Remsey who?" Donna asks.

"Ramsay Hunt," Harvey corrects. "Ramsay Hunt is rare. Like 1 in 190,000. The symptoms of awful. Besides the rash. There's vertigo, ear pain, tinnitus, hearing loss, facial paralysis. The blisters can even be in the throat and effect the eye. If treatment isn't started right away the hearing loss and facial paralysis can be permanent"

"Jesus," Donna whispers. Then she turns to Harvey, smirking. "You sound very informed. Have you been online looking this up all afternoon?"

"It's not like I had anything else to do since I was waiting for you to bring those briefs over," Harvey says motioning to the pile of papers.

"Surry, if I was too busy being awesome. I had a lot of stuff to do at the office since you and Mike were both out." Donna retorts.

Harvey is about to make a smartass comment when Mike lets out a pitiful moan from the couch.

"Go," Donna motions. "We'll pick this up tomorrow."

Harvey shakes his head because he knows damn well Donna will no doubt be harping on the fact that he is taking care of his sick associate for the foreseeable future. But, another moan from Mike prompts him to move towards his associate to see what's going on. Donna can't help but roll her eyes when she hears Harvey say, "You better not puke again. I've seen enough of your stomach lining today to last me for the next decade."

Donna shuts the door and leans back against it for a few minutes. She can make out Harvey coaxing a reluctant Mike to drink some water and take his next dose of meds. She thinks she can even make out him telling the associate to go back to sleep. But, she can't be sure because Harvey is talking so quietly. The redhead smiles as she moves away from the door satisfied. Harvey's got this.

 **I hope you guys all liked! I'm not a medical expert but I did do a fair share of research on Ramsay Hunt Syndrome.**


End file.
